


pretty in pink

by underscorepidge



Category: Palaye Royale (Band)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Crossdressing, Implied Sexual Content, Lingerie, M/M, Makeup, Sebastian in lingerie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 17:59:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17729993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underscorepidge/pseuds/underscorepidge
Summary: Just for a little while, he wants to feel pretty.





	pretty in pink

**Author's Note:**

> I’m gonna be honest, I have no real recollection of starting this but I figured I’d just get the job done. Enjoy, my dudes.

Sebastian considered himself a good figure, often enough as his brothers claimed through interviews. But he felt a little different, something on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t quite form the words too. If you were to ask him, after the drinks that put the pleasant buzzed flush on his cheeks and the giggle to his voice, he would say it started with an article on lingerie.

It was a routine doctors visit, before they were swept in the mania of screaming fans and nights on the road. Call him cheesy for it, but he saw it in a Cosmopolitan issue, fingers tracing word and shape in a dull mix of color. Lace on sloped shoulders, down the chest and flaring end above shapely hips. Dainty ankles crossed, nylon and pillow. His breath leaves him for a moment, just that, as he focuses on how it clings to curve and contrasts against the color of skin. Momentarily he folds it, just to snap a photo of the website name, before the nurse calls for him. Between the conversations and exams, all he can really think about is the panties on his hips, and how they would feel.

The capacity between the start of tour and the first night they’re at a hotel, when he’s backed against the door with fingers dug into hair, is startlingly short. He only registers that thought as Dan murmurs, calling him pretty like it’s a holy mantra as he undoes the scarf around his neck, trading fabric for teeth and a hot breath that makes him shiver. When Dan has his hands snug on hips as he lifts Sebastian up, he vaguely wonders how he would react to lace dancing under his fingertips. As his hands wrap around his neck, how he could slip a finger under the ring of a choker and tug him ever closer. As he’s being wound tight and coming undone with an arch of the back, how Dan would call him pretty and all the other bedroom words. Even as they fall asleep, he seeks dreams of shedding his skin, if only for a bit, and becoming something special.

He slips away one afternoon, to the shopping district of whatever town they’re performing for that night, with a name he will surely forget. It’s a nauseating pink, chic in some of the ways he is not. Braving the surely overwhelming smells of perfumes and the grossly cheery bubblegum pop, he steps in. Rows upon rows of lace, silk and velvet greet him alongside the overly cheery sales clerk at the register. He wanders over to the panties first, fingers brushing over the rainbow in front of him. The images of pale rose come to mind as he reaches for a pair in that dreamy sort of pink, grey as storm bows on the hips. His boots echo against the tile as he reaches an aisle over, chasing the bralette to match the bottoms. It takes a bit but he is sure to be successful. He’s been in there for longer than he feels comfortable, and it shows in his gait. He picks up a choker and pack of nylons on his way, and she cheerfully asks if he’s got a girlfriend he plans on spoiling. It isn’t in his heart to say it’s for him. His drugstore stop is the final puzzle piece, he’s ready set go for what may happen that night.

The stage is electrified with every twist and step. He’s hyperaware of everything, his calloused fingers against the strings, how Emerson taps in time with how the crowd roars and moves. Remington, raw and bold and just what the people need. There’s a need to swallow his words as Daniel prowls across the stage, a fire in his eyes he hopes continues later on. The people cry and bend and move like soldiers in march, awaiting command and drop before they become a frantic buzz once again. He’s waiting for when the night will end.

Blessedly, it’s a hotel night. He’s grabbing his bags before everyone else, key card in hand. The bed looks so enticing, but he’s on a mission. Fingers fly across the screen as he sends his boyfriend a text, urging him to take sweet time while he prepares a surprise of sorts. He tries not to let the anxious thoughts take over as he’s slipping into the shower. The shaving cream is cold against his flushed from the heat skin, careful strokes until he’s seeing skin that’s smooth and shiny. He repeats it twice(hitting the other leg and his happy trail), washes his hair and hopes that his face isn’t too red. Steam floats upon the stale bathroom air as he steps out, admiring the feel of how his legs slide together. With a grip a bit more delicate than expected, he’s reaching for the panties. Slip in a leg, slip in the other, slowly move upwards until they rest upon hips, and he’s letting out a breath he can’t recall holding. He reaches for the bralette just as his phone on the bathroom sink is vibrating. Biting back a choice word or two, he picks up and, through nimble tap of fingers, his texts are open and Daniel is on the other line. He’s flying across the screen right then, telling Dan the room number and to wait on one of the beds. It chirps and buzzes as he’s sliding it down, over shoulder and down his front. From the angle of the crappy bathroom mirror, he’d say he looks pretty damn good. Next are his nylons, unfurled with a funny sort of grace. They slide up easy and stay snug on thighs, and he hopes the choker won’t be too tight as he fastens it from the back. The door to the hotel opens, startling him from the zone he was in. It’s biting back a yelp as Daniel calls out a quiet “Sebastian? Are you okay?”, and he has to hope the tone his voice takes doesn’t betray his nervousness when he calls back “I’m in the bathroom! I’ll be out in a minute, go ahead and sit yourself on the bed.” And he leaves it at that, reaching back for the drugstore bag, digging out the sleek little black tube. What’s inside is a sweet baby pink, he takes time to apply, going over curves and painting on thin. He steps back, looks in the mirror, gives a little twirl, and decides he cleans up nice. The tube goes back on the sink and he steadies his breath, grabbing the doorknob and twisting. He’s stepping out before he lets other thoughts get the better of his conscience. The gasp he hears is surprisingly satisfying.  
.  
If you were to have told Dan that after the concert adrenaline had worn off and a pleasant warmth had settled over bones, that his boyfriend would saunter out of the hotel bathroom in lingerie and nylons, lips painted an angelic sort of pink, he would probably look at you like you were crazy. And yet that’s where he finds himself, in some city he can’t recall the name of, watching with baited breath as Sebastian saunters toward the bed, confident yet nervous. In no other words he could ever hope to use to describe the ethereal being in front of him, he’s pretty, gorgeous, absolutely stunning. Grey stockings mould and cling to shapely thighs, basking smooth skin in a pseudo shadow. His gaze travels upward, drinking in pale rose and storm clinging to hips, chest and shoulders, only to stop at lips and the tongue that’s peeking out. It’s a hard to describe shade, bringing to mind spring and new opportunities. But that’s far off from now, and his voice is impossibly soft as he says, “Come here, sweetheart.” with a crook of the finger. He wonders when Sebastian takes in a shaky breath and asks “How do I look?”. He responds in kind with “Absolutely stunning, angel.”, and counts it a silent victory when a pretty flush settles over high cheekbones.

Standing up, he prowls in sure stance to where his boyfriend stands, coming to rest hands on his hips. He leans forward, just a bit, to brush their lips together and ask for more. It’s granted surely soon enough, as arms come to wrap around his neck and tug him closer, moaning sweetly as his tongue snakes and prods for entrance, lips parting for clash of teeth and the chase for purchase, fingers starting to wiggle a little lower. They’re moving back slowly towards the bed, soon to be tangled up in sheets once more. Sebastian makes a soft noise as he makes contact, slowly becoming breathless laughter, and he drinks that in. Lipstick fuzzed around edges, hair splayed out like a short halo, arms stretched above his head, pink staining cheeks, dewy and fresh. With hazy gaze roaming expanse of pale and unmarked, he thinks he’s seen an angel, even as he’s moving down to press teeth into collarbone, as to produce the most sinful of noises bar his stage theatrics. It’s intoxicating, and he wants so much more. They lock lips once more, breathless like the first date they had, rewound to experience a second time again and again.  
.  
They move like a well-oiled machine, between hands resting on biceps and nails digging into sheets, drawing parallels to times before and what they’re doing now. Sebastian’s cries rise in pitch and fervor as Dan’s hands come to rest on his neck, fingers ghosting over windpipe. Straps are sliding off and pooling in the crook of arms, lax yet ready for anything when the opportunity arises. Pretty, sweetheart, angel and all the words that come out in throes of heightened sense and passion. Dan moves him on his back, fingers still ever present, as he’s pressing into swallowing heat, blissfully tight and wet and Sebastian is gasping for air once again. Hips piston in a familiar pattern and he’s steadying shoulders, moving until he’s against that bundle of nerves and Seb is coming undone, back arched, fingers digging into shoulder blades and dragging down, down until his hips stutter and he’s seeing white, collapsing with a shuttered intake of air, face undoubtedly red. Sebastian lets out a weak moan of protest as he pulls out, white dripping down the back of thighs. Limbs like lead weights as Dan moves him under comforter and stripping him of the moment, back to the daily routine and the Sebastian he knows and loves with all his heart. They’ll talk when the sun comes up, he surmises, even as his eyes are sliding shut and arms are wrapping around a waist. Just for a bit, Sebastian got to feel pretty, and Dan told him as such.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m shameless
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr babydoll-leith or on Discord underscorepidge#9758


End file.
